she waits...

breathe in the darkness 
& stand naked 
under this moonless night

tearing at
thorn n spike

the sounds,
guttural 
creeping in from the center 
        of gravity

the tastes
  all regurgitated
& bitter

just bide time
   for one solitary second 
       of solace

it took her

it took her,
pulling you in

to reach me
to close the gap
to feel my frightened heart

cornered

he's waiting in the wings
misty cloud
he moves
& before i can catch my breath
get my bearings,
he is there

seductive eyes 
pulling me in
until he has control again
control
over my feelings, body, emotions

one wrong move
one wrong choice
he has me trapped in his tangled web

i cannot breath
or make a sound
he got to me

individual greatness

what makes an individual 'great'? i mean, what is it that drives people to reach a point where they realize their potential? there are so many human beings that walk on this earth who will leave a worldwide legacy and then others who seem content to just exist and die. i guess 'greatness' is very subjective, but we cannot deny that the mandela's, mother teresa's, gandhi's, & mlk's are exceptions to the norm.  regardless of their backgrounds, they were able to rise above & out of the typical patterns of thought in their 'tribes'. are some people just born this way? with a sun so bright inside that they must light a path? or can this force be acquired through life experience? i am not so disillusioned to think there is a clear answer.  as with most questions in life, there are probably a myriad of factors that play into the answer.  any thoughts? 

gravitational pull

his fingers caress my skin

    a touch 

  that i haven't felt in so long
i almost didn't recognize it

he wants to reach me
   but i am damaged

& i will never be anyone's
   
for i am like the seasons
   i leave, i return

the cycle
  like tides, the sun, the moon

i touch his face & kiss his scars,
   gently
in hopes that i may give him enough to remember
how beautiful he is
    

colors of morocco

dancing in morocco

steps wild & careless

drumming

colors of every hue

       envelop my frame

the moonlight

draws out the madness in me

drumming

       hands from a stranger of this land

grab my waist

       lips brush my neck

& he whispers a secret

morning

betrayed  


by my own veiled fragility


in strength, i discover my


     weakness


awakening at dawn


a


myriad of scents


hanging like silk sheets


around my skin